


Needs Met

by Monalisasandmadhatters20



Series: Thunder [3]
Category: Actor RPF, Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monalisasandmadhatters20/pseuds/Monalisasandmadhatters20
Summary: Repost:Taron has done a lot of things that are not his norm, and is doing his best to pick up the shattered pieces of his life.  He goes to the one person whom might have any idea what it's like.
Relationships: Taron Egerton/Richard Madden
Series: Thunder [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600285
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Confessions

Taron sat in the back of the corner coffee shop, staring down at the rapidly cooling brew he had ordered for himself ages ago. Sitting alone and feeling quite sorry for himself indeed, dressed down in trackies and a threadbare hoodie he had had since secondary school, he could almost pretend he was like any of the other blokes that came in for their caffeine fix.

But he wasn’t. Not really.

He looked up hopefully when the bell above the door rang. A faint smile spread across his face. Dressed in equally worn clothes, a baseball cap set low on his head, and ridiculously large sunglasses that took up most of his face, his old friend made his way purposely to the back of the shop where Taron sat, thankfully almost alone.

He wasn’t like the rest either.

Taron stood to greet him, holding his hand out nervously to shake. “Thank you for meeting with me,” Taron murmured, shifting his weight from foot to foot, chocked full of nervous energy even without the coffee.

“Anything for my lad, Taron,” Elton replied, a warm smile in which Taron felt undeserving of on his face. He opened his arms, and Taron stepped gratefully into the hug. The contact  _ most _ calmed his trembling limbs. “David sends his warmest regards, and wishes he could have made it.” Elton pulled back and cupped his cheek in his hand. He looked intently at Taron’s face, searching for what Taron did not know. “Will you be alright for a mom’ longer? I’d like to get a cuppa before we sit and chat. It’s a bit chill out there.”

Taron nodded once, taking his seat once again. He watched as the Elton John got in line behind a group of unsuspecting college students. Seeing him standing behind the regular joes who didn’t even know he was amongst them he was unable to keep the grin from his face.

Thinking about  _ why _ he asked Elton to meet with him in the first place, though, made the grin slip quite quickly. 

Taron took a sip of his ice cold coffee to take his mind off the upcoming conversation, wishing with all he had it was something stronger. Elton may have stated he had no issue with people drinking alcohol around him, but doing so seemed much too disrespectful.

Plus it was only 8 am. It was easier to pretend he didn’t have an issue with alcohol now if he waited until after noon time, at the very least…

Taron shut his eyes, doing his best to keep control of his emotions. He used to be able to corral them back into a tidy pen within his mind, dealing with them if and only when he had to. He used to be able to put on a brave smile and be able to react accordingly without his feelings getting in the way. He used to be able to handle all that life threw at him.

So much had gone wrong in such a short time...

“Alright Taron, my lad, what’s on your mind?,” Elton asked as he sat down at the table, interrupting Taron’s short pity party.

Taron was silent as he watched Elton stir the milk into his tea. Taron watched the sugar cube melt slowly with each circle the teaspoon made. Taron watched Elton set the spoon upon the napkin beside the saucer, and then folded his hands in front of him, waiting patiently for whatever it was Taron had to say.

None of which gave him the courage to speak like he hoped. 

Taron pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know where to start,” he said, unable to keep the slight whine out of his voice.

Elton chuckled softly. “I have found over my many years of life the best place to start is normally the beginning, my lad.”

“Right, the beginning…,” Taron muttered, picking up his cup of coffee. He took a long sip and winced. “Black coffee is not meant to be cold… Do you mind if I run up and get a warm-up real quick before I begin?”

“As long as you don’t plan to run out the door instead,” Elton said, a half smile on his face.

“Right,” Taron said, with a soft shake of his head. “No fleeing. Got it.”

Taron pulled his hood up over his head, feeling quite ridiculous. He knew no one here in the shop had recognized him. If they had, he would have already had greeters at his table. He didn’t know if he was hiding from them, or from himself, at this point, and everything was just so messed up in his mind he could scream.

“Can I get a warm-up, darling?,” he murmured to the barista, who smiled across the counter at him. “Or a fresh cup if it will take longer, yeah. Not looking forward to the conversation I’m about to have.”

“Even a fresh cup of black coffee takes just a moment, Sir,” the barista said, confusion evident in her voice.

Taron sighed, leaning on the counter. “Yeah... I know.”

Within seconds he was walking back to the table, his head hung low, his thoughts spiraling almost out of control. His breathing was rapid and he felt on the verge of suffocation at the same time. 

He was exhausted from the constant struggle.

He set his cup down as carefully as his trembling hands would allow, and collapsed back onto his chair. “I’ve made a terrible mistake,” Taron said quietly, his head turned towards the ceiling, in lieu of greeting.

“Everyone makes mistakes, child. The important thing is to move forward from them, no matter the repercussions,” Elton replied, holding his cup of tea with both hands. “I’ve made many mistakes over my many years, lad. I don’t think you could surprise me at this point in my life. You can always be blunt with me.”

Taron nodded shortly. “I know. That’s why I rang you, and not my dear mam.”

Elton allowed Taron a few minutes to gather his thoughts before pressing once more as he gingerly sipped at his tea. From what he knew of Taron this was one of the hardest things he could face, speaking frankly of whatever wrongs he believed he may have committed, so he was willing to wait. But when the tears sprang from Taron’s eyes, however, Elton knew he needed to speak up. 

He took Taron’s hand in his own and squeezed. “What’s happened, dear boy, to put you in such a tizzy?,” he asked gently, wanting nothing more than to wrap him in his arms and comfort him, but not wanting to draw anymore attention to themselves.

“I wanted to know what it was like to  _ be _ you before shooting the film. Against the advice of those around me, I went to the clubs. I took random, nameless blokes back to my flat and shared a bit of drink and drug to be able to get on with it. I thought I could do it just a few times, you know? Just a few times and be done with it. I didn’t think… I didn’t think it would be so hard to stop. But… It is and I need help and I didn’t know who else to turn to… You probably think I’m an idiot...”

“Taron, lad, look at me,” Elton said gently, squeezing his hand once more. “You aren’t the first young man to fall into the trappings of addiction, and you shan’t be the last. I can’t say I am not disappointed at the route you took to learn more for the role, but I am deeply flattered you chose me to speak to about it when you realized you can’t go at it alone. Will you allow me to help you, lad?”

“Please,” Taron whispered, closing his eyes. 

“Good good. Come on then. My driver is still outside waiting for us. We’ll go to my home, and with your consent, I’ll talk to David. He is much better at coming up with plans than I. I have a habit of jumping head first into things.” Taron returned Elton’s smile weakly. “You’re going to be alright, Taron. I swear it.”


	2. Life as He Knew it

Taron hadn’t expected when ringing Elton he would be welcomed into his home with open arms. He hadn’t expected to be shown what was once considered the guest bedroom, (where he had stayed just before filming began whilst learning all he could about Elton’s life), and then being told by both Elton  _ and _ David to decorate it as he wished. 

_ This is now your bedroom,  _ David had said, a large smile on his face.  _ Make it pop or Elton will do it for you. _

He also hadn’t expected both Elijah and Zachary to run into the bedroom, huge smiles on their little faces, to help their new big brother get settled in for the evening, while their parents discussed Taron’s situation at length.

He hadn’t expected to feel so welcome when he felt so dirty and defiled and stupid.

Taron lay upon the soft bedding, petting the duvet absentmindedly, still in the clothes he had been wearing for just over a week now, staring at the ceiling wondering just what his life actually was now. He hadn’t made it down to dinner. He hadn’t made it to the bath that he had drawn for himself once the boys were called downstairs for dinner. He hadn’t even made it to just picking up his damn iPhone to ring his mother to tell her he was alright, even with her calling numerous times throughout the day.

He wasn’t up for much of anything, it seemed…

He curled into a ball on the bed and shut his eyes tight, doing his best to will away the pain. His body was screaming at him for just a little something... Just a little drink to take the edge off. Just a few lines to make it all alright. Just a little cut to calm the ravaging want that just would not leave him, no matter how many mind exercises that he tried and failed him. 

Anything would do at this point.

_ I promised to go to them if it got this bad. I promised to accept their help if I couldn’t go at it alone. I promised to not lay here alone and hurting, when they were just next door… _

_ Then again, I’m usually shit at keeping promises. And this is no different, _ he thought, turning onto his back with a sigh. He looked at the digital alarm clock that sat by the bed.  _ Especially at 3 in the bloody morning. _

He got unsteadily to his feet, his hand resting on the bedside table as his vision swam was the only thing that kept him upright. He snatched his phone and put it in his pocket.  _ Too hard. Can’t do it. Have to leave, _ he thought wearily, walking towards the door.  _ I don’t know why I even thought I could. Dragging them into my mess was an idiotic move.  _

_ Better off without me. Everyone will be better off without me. _

He somehow made it to the front door of the manor without getting too lost in the maze of hallways. He pressed the pincode David ensured Taron memorized before leaving him to his own devices into the alarm pad beside the front door. His hand was on the doorknob, just about to run into the night, when he heard footsteps fast approaching him. 

“Where are you going, Taron?”

  
  
  


***********************

  
  
  


Taron sat in the family sitting room, a cup of steaming tea in his trembling hands. He looked at the soft carpet, the muted wallpaper, the stacks of reading material on the coffee table; anywhere but at the too kind man sitting across him in his reclining chair. 

David blew gently on his tea. “You should be glad my husband sleeps so deeply. He would be rather disappointed in you right now, child,” David said, his gentle tone clashing with the bite of his words. “I believe he told you it didn’t matter the time of day, come to us if you need to, correct?” 

Taron flinched. “Yes, but…”

David shook his head. “There is no ‘but’ when it comes to this, child. We both have been where you are. We both understand what you are going through. We don’t want you to have to make the same mistakes we did, child. Nor do we want you to have to endure the professional methods if we can aid you instead. Trust me when I say, it sucks.” He took a sip of his tea. “Detoxing is only the beginning. The stigma that follows you throughout the rest of your life and career can end up being worse than your darkest day in rehab.” He shrugged. “Or at least, it used to be. I can’t say I follow much other than my husband’s headlines anymore. The children keep me quite busy.”

“Your sons are brilliant. Very helpful,” Taron said, a slight smile on his face. “Just like their dad’s.”

David positively beamed. “They are wonderful, aren’t they? They are the light of our lives,” he said, setting his cup on the table. “Tell me, Taron, if you actually were what your mind is telling you, do you think we would have allowed you into their lives?” He smiled at Taron’s wide eyed stare. “I told you: we have been there. I know what’s going on in your mind right now. I dealt with it, too. If not for my husband, or my very young children at the time, I would have followed through on my thoughts.” David leaned forward on the sofa. “I don’t want you to think you have no one in your corner, child. Bad things happen when one feels alone. Bad things happen when one pushes those who love them away. I don’t want bad things to happen to you, and neither does Elton. You are so precious to us. To Richard. To your mom and stepdad, as well. You need to let someone in, son.”

Taron couldn’t stave the damn when it finally opened. He allowed himself to feel something other than self-loathing. He later realized that feeling was hope.

  
  


**********************

The waves crashed upon the rocks, the soothing sound Taron could never get enough of. He sat beside Richard on the rock wall, their hands clasped together, watching the ocean. It was peaceful. It was right. It was everything Taron never knew he needed during this part of his healing process.

“I’ve been with a lot of people…,” he whispered, never looking away from the water.

Taron could hear the smile in Richard’s voice. “I know.”

“And I’m still technically dating Emily,” Taron murmured, smiling despite himself as Richard squeezed his hand.

“Yes, I know that, too.”

“I really can’t be what you need, Richard.”

“Oh Taron, you are everything I need,” Richard replied simply, cupping Taron’s tear streaked cheek with his hand. 

He leaned forward slowly, giving Taron all the time in the world to move away. He captured Taron’s lips with his own, slow and gentle, pouring the truth as he knew it with every sweep of his lips.

Taron moaned into the kiss, feeling the spark that had been missing within him light for the first time in months. Richard wordlessly deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around Taron tightly, a promise to him that he would never regret this decision. 

He licked Taron’s lips with his tongue, begging entry which Taron accepted with a contented sigh. The kiss turned harsher, all bites and nips and licks, Richard giving everything Taron didn’t realize he needed within a short time. The spark turned into a fire, burning into Taron’s skin, a need so foreign yet also so normal taking over.

“Richard,” he whined when the other man’s mouth began to travel, stopping at his earlobe, across his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone. “Please…,” he found himself begging. For what, though, he didn’t know.

“Please what, pretty thing?,” Richard asked, and Taron could feel the smile on his neck. Taron shook his head, shuddering when Richard bit down hard. “Very well, I shall just continue then.”

Taron knew this would not end the way Richard believed. Taron knew he should push him away. Fairytale endings would never be in his cards, no matter what the others seemed hell bent on making him believe. 

But for a moment, he felt wanted. For a moment, he felt desired. For a moment, he felt loved. He came so close to pushing Richard both away from him and pulling him closer he froze in Richard's embrace. And in that moment of indecision…

“Your place or mine?,” Taron asked breathlessly.


	3. The End of Everything

It was late, far too late to still be awake, but he couldn’t sleep. He stood on the balcony just outside of his flat, leaning against the balustrade taking in his last cigarette of the night. The cool autumn air felt wonderful on his bare skin. The chill in the air almost made him forget about his dreadful evening out with his best mate.

Almost, but not quite, that is.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, a sardonic grin that seemed forever etched on his face now, as he thought about where it all went wrong. He cleared his throat, fighting the tears that pricked in the corners of his eyes, and tapped the ash into his ashtray. He ran his fingers through his black curls, wishing for a tumbler of whisky to wash the memories away.

 _I love you_.

Richard had been so taken aback when Taron spoke those words to him at the pub. He had tried to laugh it away, _Great joke, T_ , he had said, signaling the bartender for another round. He took his mug of Guinness in hand and gulped down the bitter brew, looking anywhere but at the man beside him. _If you still drank I'd say you were delusional right now…_

_It’s not a joke, you tosser. I think I am in love with you, Dickie ._

Richard had choked on his beer. 

_You can’t be, mate. You have a fecking girlfriend_ , Richard had ground out somehow, as he loosened his tie. His skin was burning. He felt like he would never cool down.

“I still haven’t,” he muttered, flicking the ash away.

 _As do you, and that hasn’t stopped us even once..._ , Taron had scoffed, folding his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowed. _I don’t feel for her as I do you, Dickie, and it scares me._

 _It scares me too_ , he had admitted, softly though he knew without a doubt Taron heard him. He looked into Taron’s eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity in his gaze. He gulped down the remaining liquid in his mug instead of replying any more.

They had played, of course. They had played regular for months. Catching feelings was something inevitable as time went on. Something he _had_ wanted, if he could finally be truthful with himself. 

Everything Richard had ever hoped for had actually happened this night and what did he do instead of embracing it? He threw some notes on the bar to cover the tab, and then he ran out of the pub. He ran like the fucking coward he was. He jumped in the back of the first taxicab he saw, and continued his night of drinking alone in his flat with his cell phone turned off.

He wondered how just three little words could make or break a relationship. How such simple words, when strung together, could cause such panic within him. He closed his eyes. He had spent the evening growing increasingly drunker as he considered his feelings towards Taron. He could not imagine a life without Taron in it, of course. He couldn’t imagine feeling this way for anyone else… But could that mean love? He wasn’t sure if he would ever grasp the answer truthfully that seemed so simple at first glance.

 _Taron loves me_ . He still could not quite believe it. He ground out his cigarette butt in the tray and stared up at the new moon. It was fitting, he admitted to himself, the new moon. The ‘magical’ phase that provides a reset where goals can be renewed, desires can be set, and new intentions can be made. _Maybe it is as simple as it seems_ , he thought, his smile more hopeful than grim now.

He rubbed his forehead, suddenly feeling exhausted. He had one thing left to do before he could finally find the peace in sleep. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, watching the apple logo as it powered on with a heavy heart. _I’m such a fool leaving him there after he finally had the guts to tell me. Especially after how difficult it was for him to pull himself up from the shallows of despair before._

He opened his messenger. **I love you, too, mo chridhe.**

*******************

His iPhone had been pulsing almost nonstop on his bedside table for days now. Each time the incessant vibration made its way through the dense fog within his head, which wasn’t very often really, he almost turned over and turned the damn thing off.

Almost…

His anxiety had overtaken him to the point in which he couldn’t even face seeing familiar names on the touchscreen long enough to turn the bleeding thing off. He continued to lay on his back, ignoring it as best as he was able, staring blankly at the dull ceiling tiles within his bedroom. His limbs felt much too heavy to move anyway.

He had barely eaten anything in days. What had passed his lips he ended up expelling within minutes. The basin beside his bed smelled worse than anything he had ever been around, but he never got up to empty it. He was mentally and physically exhausted, but could not find rest no matter how hard he tried. He rubbed his eyes, thankful at least he had no more tears to shed.

He refused to ponder the fact he was no doubt too dehydrated to produce any tears.

He knew the phone continued to pulse beside him because there were people who actually worried after him, even if he couldn’t bring himself to worry for himself. There were people who thought he was actually worth something… Thought that his past did not matter… He had stayed strong for those people as long as he was able. He pretended he felt he was worth something... Anything... 

Until he opened his heart to the one he loved and was turned away like yesterday's trash...

Now… Now he prayed for the end.

****************

David threw his mobile phone on the coffee table with a disgruntled sigh. He had been trying to reach Taron for hours now, beginning as soon as  _ that boy _ showed up at their house in the dead of night with his confession. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Still no answer, babe,” David said, doing his best to calm the raging anger within.

“Right,” Elton muttered, getting to his feet. He threw open the closet door and shrugged his jacket on over his shoulders.

“What are you doing, Elton?,” David asked wearily, watching him wrap his scarf around his neck.

“Going to his flat, of course, love. If he hasn’t answered Richard, Emily, or his mum all week, nor you this evening, I will feel better checking in on him myself,” Elton replied with a slight shrug to his shoulders. “You coming with?”

David wanted to tell him he was being silly. Taron was a grown man who could take care of himself, and didn’t need two old fruits sticking their nose in his business. Their sons were fast asleep, and it would be silly to wake them so they could traipse across the bleeding country in the dead of night just to find him well and whole and fast asleep, thank you very much…

But then he remembered the lost look in Taron’s eyes when he found him about to leave their house the first night. He remembered holding him as he went through the horrible first few days of sobriety. He remembered rubbing Taron’s shoulders whilst he curled around a hot water bottle in the fetal position on the much too large bed and mopped his brow with a handkerchief. 

He remembered bringing dinner up to him when he was not up for company, but being asked to stay and fill the air with chatter that Taron didn’t feel up to returning just so he would feel less alone. He remembered bringing him to the first of many AA meetings, and sitting beside in the back row until he could go by himself.

He remembered being weary when Taron brought news to them that he and Richard had an unspoken  _ thing _ . He just  _ knew _ it would end in heartache, especially when neither man seemed willing to part with their respective girlfriends. All of the progress Taron had made was no doubt in the gutter.

David got to his feet himself. “Ring the sitter, dear. No reason to wake the boys. I’ll be ready to go shortly.”

Because he remembered how close they were to losing their unofficial son  _ before _ both love and heartache crept in, and he’d be damned if he let him go without a fight.

  
  


**************

Somewhere in the dense fog Taron heard hushed voices. He had known it was coming. He had known his mental state was worsening with each passing day. He had expected to feel terrified when the break finally occurred, but instead he only felt relief.

The chill in his bones seemed to have finally abated. He felt almost cozy for the first time in a long while; almost cocooned in the warmth. He allowed a small smile form on his face at the mental image of him as an ugly caterpillar getting ready to become a beautiful butterfly.

_ You will always be the ugly caterpillar, Taron, _ he thought darkly.  _ No matter what others tell you. _

He felt a wet heat on his forehead and furrowed his brow.  _ Shhhh _ , the voices said soothingly.  _ You’re alright, Taron, my lad. Sleep. _

And so he did.


	4. Need You

“Don’t try to talk. You’ve got tubes everywhere,” was not something Jamie Bell expected to ever have to say, but life throws interesting wrenches into his life at times, it seemed.

Taron hadn’t been doing as well as the texts and random late night calls he received from him had appeared to be, and hadn’t been for quite some time if the stories he heard from those closest to him were true. Jamie was rather miffed at himself for not seeing through the mindless chatter and especially not being there for him when his close friend was in such need. 

Not that any of them had been, really, when Taron was always the first one to open his heart and flat to any one of them. Not that it did much to ease any of their guilt.

“Your mum, stepdad, Elton, and David are down at the canteen getting a coffee. It’s been a long few days, mate... They’ll be back up shortly, though. Bernie swung on through this morning, and wants me to ring him with any news. Emily returned to her flat last night. She’ll be happy to hear you’ve finally awoken, princess,” Jamie said, unable to keep the relief he felt himself out of his voice. “You scared the lot of us, mate. All of us.”

He could see the question in Taron’s eyes about the name he purposely left out, but chose to ignore it for now. He didn’t need to hear that Madden hadn’t returned anyone’s calls or texts about Taron’s condition just yet, not if they wished him to get well.

“Get some rest, angel. Everyone will be here when you wake next, I promise you,” Jamie said softly, even as Taron’s eyes obediently fell shut once more. He squeezed Taron’s hand, allowing the tears to finally fall from his own. “I know I won’t be leaving you on your own again, my family be damned at the moment...”

He leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. It was amazing how far into his own life he had gone that he had almost forgotten his best friend. No amount of husband or baby duty gave him the right to fall out of touch when his friend needed him most. Kate would have to understand. 

The story as he heard it was heartbreaking. Taron diving so far into his character for filming (How he had missed  _ that _ he’ll never know… Great Bernie he was, that’s for certain...) that he had spiraled out of his own control. A coffee date with Elton (and what was their lives really that they could ring up the legendary Sir Elton John or Bernie Taupin for advice or help now…), months of rehabilitation within Elton’s manor with David and the children’s help as well, only for it all to go down the drain because of a stupid evening with a stupid man.

He loved Madden. He truly did. But  _ Jesus Christ _ if he wasn’t pissed at him right about now.

When the small hospital room filled up once more with some of those who loved Taron so much, Jamie begged off to get his own cup of sour coffee and inedible cafeteria food, and to ring his wife to check in on their children. 

_ And call the idiot that caused this portion of the madness once again. No matter how angry I may be with him, he loves Taron with all his heart, he’s said. Love makes people do strange things… At least, it did for me… _

  
  


**********************

  
  


“ _ Oh good. You finally answered your bloody phone, asshat.” _

Richard pulled his mobile away from his ear to check that it truly was Jamie who was cursing at him. He rolled his eyes, not in the mood for this idiocity at all. “I’ve been busy, Bell. You know what our work can be like. What’s got you so bloody annoyed? It’s not as though we speak on the regular as it is.”

“ _ No,  _ we _ don’t, but I thought you might want to know what’s happened to Taron? You know, the love of your life, your one and only after your fucking girlfriend, blah blah blah, that you personally asked Elton and David to go check up on because you were too scared to there yourself?” _

Richard winced. Put like that he really  _ was _ an asshat... He fumbled in the pocket of his dressing gown hung neatly in the closet for his cigarettes and lighter. He had planned to quit when Taron had asked him so nicely. He was thankful he hadn’t thrown them in the rubbish yet. 

He had a feeling he was going to need them. 

“Right…,” he said weakly. “How… How is my Taron?” He heard Jamie scoff on the other side of the line, and couldn’t help a surge of anger manifesting within him. So foreign, yet so right.  _ Better than the wretched anxiety I’ve been feeling nonstop, I suppose, _ he thought, lighting up his cigarette with trembling hands.

_ “‘Your’ Taron is currently hooked up to a fuckton of machines at the bloody hospital, man! He woke up today, briefly, finally, after four days. I’ve been here with him. His mum and stepdad and Elton and David have crashed in the bloody hospital room for four fucking days waiting for him to wake up because  _ you _ decided to run when he finally opened up his heart to you. Not seeming like you are worth it now, mate...” _

Richard winced again. “Damn, Jamie, you know where to hit it, mate,” Richard muttered, flicking the ash over the side of the balustrade. “Is he…?

_ “He’s alive. That’s all I can say for now. He stopped eating. He was dehydrated. He had taken a shit ton of pills and washed it down with the alcohol he done so well to stay clear of. But he’s alive.” _

Richard squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He should have  _ known _ his blunder would have set Taron back. He should have  _ known _ that all the work he had put into getting better would be for naught when he left the pub that night. He  _ knew _ Taron was fragile. He  _ knew _ Taron felt he was not good enough for him already, even after months of trying to change that. “Should I come?”

He heard Jamie sigh.  _ “I’m not certain it’s the best idea, Madden. Not yet at least. Emily still has no idea of your fling, and she’s been here off and on all week. David wants to punch you. His mum wants to kill you. But… I’ll keep you in the loop, if you answer your bloody phone once in a while.” _

“Alright. Thanks, mate, for being there for him whilst I can’t. If you can, tell him I’m thinking about him, and I love him so much.”

“ _ He’s my best friend. I’ll always be there for him. And for you, too, you bloody idiot. Figure it out before you see him, alright? You both deserve that much.” _

“I will,” Richard whispered, before ending the call. He leaned over the balustrade, feeling unbearably nauseous. The tears he had refused to shed all week came with such force he almost lost his footing as the wretched sobs overtook him. “My Taron, my love, please get well. I need you.”


	5. Discussions

It was amazing to Taron how those in the room fought for him. He was gaping when Elton and David and his mum and stepdad fought over who would be taking him home when his doctors gave him leave. Even Jamie threw in a halfhearted pitch of his own, knowing that his small three bedroom condo would not be the best fit for him as he healed, but Taron appreciated it nonetheless. Emily chose not to get involved in the squabble, which hurt Taron more than he cared to admit. They were supposed to be in love or something like it, he had thought at least. 

It was obvious in her eyes, though, that she knew more than she let on.

In the end, he returned home with Elton and David, knowing that as much as his mum and stepdad cared for him, they didn’t understand what was going on in his mind quite like Elton or David did. He didn’t want his little sisters to see him as he was either. And his mam, bless her, had relented as long as they promised to keep contact with her about Taron’s progress.

They offered her her own bedroom at the manor whenever she wished to visit instead.

Taron lay on his bed, his new kitten (a gift from both Zachary and Elijah when they heard he had been feeling poorly yet again. “Kittens make everything better,” Elijah had told him in the most dignified manner the six year old could muster, and had been properly horrified when Taron began bawling into the kitten’s fur), cuddled close to his chest, hoping the restlessness he had been feeling almost constantly would finally recede. 

“Oh Peppermint, what am I supposed to  _ do _ ?,” he whined into the kitten’s fur, feeling more 5 years old than his actual 30. God, but he was tired of the anxiety that was choking him every minute of every day. 

He reached over and took his phone in his hand. It was nearly three in the morning. “Should have taken David up on the offer of some sleeping pills,” he muttered, scrolling through his contacts. His thumb hovered over Richard’s name. He still wasn’t sure if contacting him would be of help or hinder his anxiety. 

He smiled when Peppermint batted at his hand, in need of attention once again. She always seemed to be in need of attention right when he was about to contact Richard. “You are in it with everyone else too, aren’t you sweet girl,” he cooed, rubbing her head gently, smiling when she gently nuzzled his cheek. 

He pressed Richard’s phone number and watched it dial itself anyway. He took a deep, shuddering breath, knowing he was probably setting himself up for disappointment, but not truly finding it in himself to care. He’d been through hell.  _ What’s one more?, _ he thought, as he listened to it ring, still petting Peppermint, and working very hard on controlling his breathing.

When he heard Richard’s voice answer the call, equal parts gruff and sweet, and rasped with sleep, Taron both ended the call and turned off his phone in one fell swoop. 

“Maybe I’m not ready, Peppermint,” he muttered, ignoring her indignant meow when he buried his face in her fur and cried.

  
  
  


*******************

  
  


Richard stared at his phone screen long after Taron had hung up on him. He had redialed him, hoping it was an accident he lost the call. When it went straight to Taron’s voicemail for the third time, Richard knew Taron had shut off his phone.

He sat up in his bed, cigarette hanging loosely between his lips, his arms folded across his bare chest. He had heard the news from Jamie the day Taron was released into the care of Elton and David, rather than seek professional help. 

Richard had really hoped he was going to a center, as it would be easier to pop in and say hello if he had.

He remembered the way they had glared so darkly at him, so unlike any reception they ever had with anyone in their lives, before he all but ran out of their manorhouse, and had no wish to repeat it, thank you very much.

He had kicked his one night stand out the moment he received the... lack of phone call. He had gone down the pub that evening, wishing only to get very, very drunk, and ended up bringing home a nice enough lad who had no idea who Richard actually was. That part was refreshing. After Rocketman wrapped, not many people _ didn’t _ know who they were...

Now, though… Now Richard felt shitty for thinking it was even partially a good idea, no matter how long it had been since he had last had sex.

He put out his cigarette and curled back up in bed. He would deal with both his hangover and this situation in a few hours. Right now, he needed to sleep. 

  
  


***********************

  
  


Richard never realized how much their children looked like Elton and David until he was faced with the same glares their dads’ had given him just before he turned tail and ran all those weeks ago. It was rather disconcerting, having both an eight year old and six year old look at you like you were dog shite on their shoes, but here he was.

He was sat on an overstuffed armchair in the family sitting room, a glass of water in his trembling hands, (he wasn’t even worth a cuppa in their eyes, it seemed), feeling most unwelcome if the stares alone he was receiving were any indication. Elton had gone up to tell Taron he was here, leaving him alone with David, Zachary, and Elijah, who seemed to hate him more and more with each passing minute they were alone.

“I can only apologize. I panicked, just like he did. I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen to Taron,” Richard said as earnestly as he could. “I love him. He’s my everything.”

“And he loves you. So much he almost  _ died _ because he thought you were stringing him along for a good lay. Don’t let it happen again, alright, son?,” David asked, a tight smile on his worn face. “You  _ really _ won’t like what happens…”

And Richard nodded, because he didn’t know what else to do to convince him his intentions were  _ good _ this time, (nevermind that they were good the last time too), and that Taron was much more than just a  _ lay _ to him. “Of course, Sir,” he whispered, flinching slightly at just how bloody soft his voice was.

The silence was uncomfortable and stifling as they waited for both Elton and Taron to make their appearance. The children still glared at Richard for hurting their ‘big brother’, (and Richard really hoped they didn’t know much more than that), whilst David seemed keen on just ignoring him in favor of his phone. Richard downed the rest of his water in one gulp.  _ If this is how they are acting, I think it best if I stay clear of his bio family for right now… And Emily and Jamie while I’m at it, too... _

He didn’t even notice when Taron finally entered the room.

“Want to go for a walk, Dickie?,” Taron asked softly, smiling slightly at the shocked look on Richard’s face, and shifting uncomfortably in the doorway. “The grounds are beautiful here. I can show you the garden...”

“God yes!,” Richard interrupted, jumping to his feet quickly and stumbling with two left feet towards the doorway, much to the amusement of everyone in the room.

Taron held out his hand, shaking with uncertainty at the action, and Richard grasped it tightly.  _ Maybe we really will be okay, after all… Maybe he actually does want me around. Maybe the things in my head really are lies, like David told me…  _

_ Or this will all blow up in my face again. God, I hope it doesn’t blow up in my face again... _

  
  
  


************************

  
  
  


Taron felt like he could cut the tension between them with a bloody chainsaw… 

He remembered, once, just how easy conversation flowed between them. They could spend hours on the telephone or at each other’s flats talking about everything and nothing all. He remembered, once, how physical affection was as easy as breathing. Ranging from cuddling on the sofa or bed to holding hands or even just the casual brushes of skin that never failed to make him keen. He remembered how wonderful their relationship seemed to those around them, and to themselves really, until the three little words came into being...

Now it was like Richard was afraid he’d break him by even saying anything at all… They had been walking for twenty minutes now, and not a fucking word was exchanged, other than the few failed attempts on Taron’s part to make conversation. 

It was irritating.

He dropped Richard’s hand with a sigh. “What are you really doing here, Richard?,” Taron asked tiredly, collapsing on the stone bench beside the hibiscus flower garden Elton had planted in remembrance of his Nan. He petted Peppermints little head, smiling slightly when she batted at his hand for waking her from her nap.

“I needed to see you, T,” Richard replied simply, shrugging his shoulders even though he knew Taron was too engrossed with his kitten to notice, as though it answered all of Taron’s questions.

“As you can see I am alive if not completely well, I suppose. You can go back to your life now, and whatever cute boy has caught your fancy.”

Richard thought it was obvious what he had meant, and was quite taken aback by Taron’s reply. “T, that’s not…”

Taron smiled slightly, holding Peppermint close to his chest. “I mean, really, you made it pretty obvious you were through with me before and…”

“T, listen to me, please…,” Richard replied, stepping towards the bench. He didn’t understand why Taron refused to listen to him. That  _ never _ happened.

Taron shrugged. “I caught feelings. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I know you usually run when someone does. I’ve heard all about the broken hearts you have left behind. I’m sorry that I…”

Richard sat beside him, cupping Taron’s cheek with his hand. “Will yeh listen to me for just a mom’, T?,” Richard asked, caressing Taron’s face with his thumb, a soft smile on his face. “I  _ am _ in love with you, too, you duffer. I was taken by surprise at the pub that night. No one has ever said they loved  _ me _ … Usually it’s just the lifestyle I can afford. I know you don’t see me in that light. I knew I liked you an awful lot, but love… Well, that word threw me.” He wrapped his arm around Taron’s shoulders, holding him as close as he could. “I messaged you that night, but I guess your phone was already off or something because I didn’t hear anything about you until Jamie called me while you were in the hospital. I hate that I caused your relapse, T.”

“You didn’t,” Taron denied, weakly.

Richard shook his head. “I did, T. I will take responsibility. You were doing  _ so well _ before that night. Hell, you didn’t even have an ale and we were there for hours. I am so proud of you, Taron. You are a greater man than I ever will be.”

Taron shook his head. “No, I’m weak. If I was strong I wouldn’t be dealing with this shite, would I?”

“No, if you were weak you wouldn’t have sought help when it became too much. That is the sign of strength, as I’m sure Elton has told you.” Richard grimaced. “They hate me now, probably think I’m here to break your heart again...”

“No one hates you, Dickie,” Taron replied. “They love me, and you are important to me, so they love you. End of story.” 

“Right…”

“So are you staying for dinner? My mam is coming here this weekend, so she’ll be arriving soon. I’m certain she’d love to officially meet you.” Taron jumped to his feet, shushing Peppermint who hissed at being jostled, and beamed. “That’s an idea! Come on! Let’s go back and I can get ready and then I can introduce you! She’s just going to love you!”

“I highly doubt that, T,” Richard said, allowing Taron to pull him to his feet. “I think she’d love to shoot me, really.”

“God, you are worse than me, Dickie…,” Taron grumbled, squeezing Richard’s hand. “It will be fine. With the two kids in the house there won’t be any injuries happening anytime soon, I assure you.”

“And if they decide to send their sons to a friend?”

Taron smiled widely. “Then you better run and run fast. My mam still runs marathons for fun.”


	6. Needs Met

“It’s so nice… Having a good portion of those I love eating supper together in silence,” Taron said, throwing his fork on his plate. He folded his arms across his chest and glared at the sheepish group, paying no mind to Peppermint who batted at his hands to get him to relax. “I understand you all think Dickie here is the spawn of Satan or some rubbish, but can we at least all pretend to get along here this evening, for me?”

“You’re right, Taron,” Tina replied, setting her napkin on her plate. “He is important to you still, and we are being monsters, aren’t we?”

Taron shook his head, a slight smile on his face. “No, Mam, you’re not being a monster. Just a bit too standoffish. He doesn’t deserve that. I made my choices, and those choices led me here. As thankful as I am to have an army defending me, he didn’t make me hurt myself. I did that on my own.” Taron raised his hand in Richard’s direction when he saw the man try to speak. “No no, Dickie. It’s the truth as I know it, and you will not be changing my mind. So… Let’s chat it up, be merry, or some shit now before the food gets too cold to enjoy ourselves, yes?”

“Of course, Taron,” David replied before Elton could speak. He took his husband’s hand. “Tell us about what’s been going on with you Richard? Any new movies we should look for?”

Taron smiled as Richard began to speak of his role in  _ 1917 _ , of his fellow actors and actresses, and felt himself truly relaxed for the first time in months. He held Peppermint to his chest, forgoing his food now, and allowed the murmured conversations to wash over him.

_ We really will be okay. All of us, _ he thought, allowing Richard’s tentative arm to wrap around his shoulders, and he leaned in closer when Richard pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He felt loved. He felt cherished. 

He finally felt at peace.


End file.
